


I rewrote Seraphine's lore because I was outraged

by DiscipulaAlba



Category: League of Legends
Genre: "Steampunk", Canon Rewrite, Class Differences, Creativity, Discrimination, Empathy, Gen, Headcanon, Iamsoangry, Inventor, Lore Rewrite, Magic, Music, Out of Character, Personal Growth, Piltover, Rewrite, Social Issues, Tags Are Hard, Zaun, outcast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:48:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27445147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiscipulaAlba/pseuds/DiscipulaAlba
Summary: I have tolerated a lot of s*** from Riot, but this time they have crossed the line.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	I rewrote Seraphine's lore because I was outraged

Even if Seraphine has spent her whole life in Piltover, the origins of her family can be traced in the distant Ionia.

Her parents belong to an ancient tribe, gifted with a strong connection with magic, the _Aidoi_. Known mostly as nomadic bards, capable of stirring even the coldest soul with their voice, her power is more complex than it appears. _Aidoi_ senses what they define as " harmony of the world ", the inner voice of every living creature that speaks to them directly through the strings of its soul. The song is their primary medium where instill their magical powers. With it, they are capable of pluck the other's strings, to harmonize them according to the feelings they want to communicate.

For centuries they have carried around the songs born from the Ionian people, until the noxian invasion. Some have decided to stay, others to find a new future somewhere else, not seeing any hope in that land ravaged by war.

Seraphine's parents have chosen this path. They expected a child and have not seen a future for them in a world like that, where they could only hear cries of pain and screams full of anger and grudge. Years before, a relative of them had found shelter in a city oversea, Piltover, and they have decided to get there.

Seraphine, with all their good wishes, is born in that city far from the horrors they have lived, but life is not as easy as they have expected; the language is different, the living standard pretty high. Because they are unable to survive following the traditions of their tribe, they work tirelessly in their relative's reastaurant to give their daughter a decent life. They decided she would not end like them.

Since she was little, it was clear that the _Aidoi_ 's magic was flowing through her, and they have to teach her to control it, as much they could do it. Her passion is great, and it is clear she is born to carry on with her ancestors' traditions. But her parents' time is little, and they are not able to complete the central part of her training: harmonizing her voice with other peoples' strings. It is beautiful, filled with emotion, but weak. It affects their souls, but it is not able to stir them thoroughly.

But Seraphine does not give up and performs in her parent's workplace to exercise herself, which catches the joy and the emotion of the presents, especially given her young age.

Because they have no other way to teach her, her parents decide to turn to what Piltover offers. Any paid course is out of the question, but the city selects the young talents for the youth choir of a prestigious opera. But even if they are confident of their daughter's skills, something goes wrong.

The audition is perfect, but something does not impress the commission, something that is beyond her abilities. In their judgment, they try to explain a legitimate reason for their rejection. But they understand what their soul is expressing, especially Seraphine: the contempt of the wealthy class for the foreigners. They would have never accepted the little girl, not until she would have been an Ionian trying to infiltrate between the respectable Piltover for them.

Devastated by that revelation, Seraphine withdraws into herself. Since that day, she believes to hear those grim melodies in every bystander that looks at her, a sound that she has never thought could hurt so much. She is not able to sing anymore, neither in her parents' workplace. She whispers faint melodies between the safe walls of her room or when she sings ancient ionian songs with her relatives, after an exhausting day of work.

Her parents, disconsolate to see her down, use all their savings to buy her an amplifier for her voice. They have not found another way to increase her powers and to encourage her to sing again. She appreciates the gift, but inside her, there is something broken, and she uses it only a few times in the venue. But her exhibition has not the same impact as before.

Despite this, she is fascinated by the tool given by her parents. During her short shows, she does not strive, but she feels that her voice comes across something inside, something that makes it vibrate more.

She is sure of two things: she has to reward her parents for all they have done for her, and her passion for music has not disappeared. Working with them in that venue would not bring them a fortune, but finding a job in the field of hextech technology would do it. And it would be even better if it concerns the world that fascinates her so much.

She looks for the name of the shop where her parents have bought her amplifier and asks if they need an apprentice. They give her the address of an acquaintance instead, an hexcustic repairman, that tries to give back life to broken sound technology.

Her world grows bigger there even more. She does not only find another way to express the melodies that caresses her every day but also understands the true potential of the hextech crystals. They are the reason why her voice resonates more in the amplifier, but they can also replicate the sounds inside her head similarly, those sounds that come up in her mind when she listens to the melodies around her. It seems like they have a soul too, capable of vibrate and resonate with the others, but she does not understand why.

In the facility, she finds another heaven of peace, where she can express herself freely, away from the prejudices, more and more vexing as she grows up. Her faint song could come out, keeping her company during the reparations and cheering her coworkers, that soon start to like her also for her warm spirit.

But she gains their respect also for another reason. Her skills come out, mostly thanks to the particular connection she has with the crystals. Nobody seems good as her in tuning old instruments and become able to make the most of their caustic potential.

Her master, seeing her talent, makes an offer to her: halve her working hours, with the same salary, so that she could build something to present to the clan during the next Progress Day.

The idea has been in her mind for a while, but she never dared to ask for free time.

She accepts the offer and devotes herself totally to the project that would have impressed the commission. If she worked for a clan, she would lighten the labour of her parents.

The result, finished almost at the deadline, surprises everyone: not only she has built a portable melodic amplifier that hovers, but it is possible to insert some phonograph cylinders directly inside it. So a huge mount to reproduce the music o whatever one can record is not necessary.

With the best wishes of the facility, she shows up at Progress Day. But, in front of the commission, she feels that something is off. A grim melody rises from their souls, the same she has heard during the choir audition.

In that precise moment, she realizes that, whatever she says or shows them, they would have never accepted her. Although her creation surprises one of the judges, the response is negative, as she has expected.

She holds her tears until she reaches the exit, where unleashes all the sadness she has felt in those years, suffering in silence.

She gains the attention that has been rejected after her, a Zaunite. He is for the third time not accepted, for the same reason as her. She perceives her same sadness and resentment echoing in his soul and, for the first time, she feels understood.

She accepts his invitation to drink something for dispelling the bitterness, along with others that have failed. During the evening, everyone shows their creation, angry for the rejection and the stupidity of the clan, until it is the turn of Seraphine. Maybe aided by the drinks she had, she decides to give a practical demonstration of her creation. So she sings out all her frustration, accompanied by the melody she had recorded on the phonographic cylinder.

The result catches her unprepared. Not only her table mates but all the venue has heard her words and music, filled with a feeling that everyone broods.

She has touched their souls. She has gained what her parents call an excellent harmonization, giving a voice to the thoughts of those people. Everyone cheers in a melodic choir that touches her deeply, more than the contempt she has always felt.

She is not alone. There are others in the same situation, and they probably are just waiting to make their voices heard.

She sees the light. She would carry on the tradition of the _Aidoi_ , bringing to everyone the melodies of who are in the shadows, of all the young unfairly rejected at the selections, of all the people isolated by the society because they did not respect their standards, of her parents that have given up everything only for giving her a better future.

She continues her work at the facility but, when she has time, she improves her amplifiers, now become two, and the microphone gifted by her parents years ago. She goes back to sing in the venue of her parents, full of new energy and will.

She starts to have a small frequent audience, but her parents remember her that the _Aidoi_ travelled all Ionia, so that they could discover the voice of all the peoples. If she stayed at the venue, she would reach a few persons.

A theatre is out of the question, reserved only to opera singers, and the venues prefer background musicians, that entertain the clients but without disturbing their conversations.

She has only one option: the street. It is not unusual to see artists performing in the most crowded lanes of the South Area of Piltover. She decides to carve out a spot there, where the ordinary people are pleased to have a break from their routine.

The experiment goes better than she has expected. She has feared contempt. She has feared to be looked as a foreigner that was pretending to be a good daughter of Piltover. But a lot of people are curious and come closer.

Her music and how her words reach their souls directly impresses them. But she is also something new to them. The stars of the opera are considered the only real singers in Piltover, but not everyone has the money or the time to hear their refined melodies. The talent of that girl is not less than theirs; her songs remind them of the folk songs that enriched their festivals, and she sings sincerely about their feelings. She does not give voice to some fictional characters invented by a composer.

She is their singer, not a simple actress.

Her fame raises, mostly between the lower classes of the city, for whom she speaks. But her voice also reaches the most refined ears, and they do not appreciate. Considering her music noisy and inappropriate, they can only stop her with the action of the wardens, after they have charged her for public nuisance.

Having trouble with justice was not in Seraphine's plan. For an instant, she thinks to sing only in her parents' workplace again, but this time there is someone else that supports her. Some of the people that have started to follow her have organized a collection for her fine. They wanted her to continue to sing for them.

So Seraphine decides that this time she would not withdraw. She is carrying on her dream step by step, even if in a not conventional way, and she can not give up: now some people are counting on her.

She goes back on singing on the streets and also continues to work in the facility. She needs money for her equipment and for the fines that still target her with the weirdest motivations.

Sometimes money is not enough, and she has to spend a night in prison rather than asking the charity to her fans. And this only strengthens their opinion on her.

One day there is a particular offer at her facility. The owner of a venue in Zaun asks for Seraphine's work, having heard about her skills as a hexcustic repairman and her low prices. Even if she does not like the idea to go down in Zaun, knowing the bad reputation of the city, she accepts. It is a good job, and she needs money.

The impact of the underground city surprises her; the melodies that reach her ears are different from Piltover. Their will to live, the unbridled ambition, the resignation, the bitterness, the hate and the joy merge in a symphony she has never thought to hear. It has frenzied rhythms, but they alternate with more melancholy and languid tempos. It is an opera filled with creativity, completely different from the vivacious but mellow sonatas of Piltover.

Zaun is a source of inspiration that she has never thought about, and it has still some surprises.

Her and her coworker, with her for safety, try to blend in during the descent and their job. Piltovians are not beloved and, even if they are in the Entresol, they want to avoid problems. But when Seraphine repairs the hexcustic system of the venue could not help but sing as her usual. She is so excited to compose something from all the stimulus she is perceiving. The owner notices her and, interested in her voice, makes another offer. She asks her to replace an artist in the evening, that had an injury that morning.

Desperate him for not finding a replacement in time, incredulous her to have a chance of a lifetime, they reach an agreement.

Seraphine does not care that it is Zaun. It is still a stage, and she is going to be paid, even if little compared to the honourable opera singer. Moreover, she would try a new audience without risking an action from the wardens.

But, after the reparations, she has not enough time to prepare herself. And, after she has collected her equipment and decided the setlist, she realizes she does not have a proper dress for the exhibition. Because she usually sings on the street in a quick alternation with her work, she has never worried about changing her facility suite. But a show on a venue stage is a different story. And she does not have the economic possibilities to buy something elegant and refined.

The coworker that has accompanied her helps her and is able to find a dress for rent from a theatre of Zaun. The quality is not sublime and it looks a bit out of context, but it is the best she could afford, and it is better than her facility suite.

When she goes back to the venue for her exhibition, she realizes one thing, looking at the group before her. It is not like in Piltover; the players are not in the background. They are part of the evening; they appeal to the audience; they try to involve them with their songs looking for their attention. She has always done that with her public, but she is not prepared to entertain the Zaunites in that way.

She has nothing ready inspired by their melodies, and she can not bring the Piltovians' songs, knowing the hatred between them. She could only try with the themes taught by her parents, the ancient melodies she had heard from the Shurimans, the echos of Freljord heroes and all the voices of the foreigners that populated the upper city. But she also adds their sadness and their desire to be accepted as the others.

She does not receive the same excitement as in the streets of her city, but she gains their curiosity. Curiosity for this girl that, even if she is a Pilti, she brings song that speaks of faraway lands and broken dreams, of voices that nobody would hear up there, but that down resonate of a well know melody. A curiosity that was enough for the owner to asks her to replace the artist until his comeback.

She accepts without a second thought.

The time spent in Zaun allows her to know better its people and its musical life, so different and imaginative. Every artist experiments and tries to create his own style that distinguishes him from the others. Everything she learns in that world, she tries to bring it to Piltover, in the streets that have learnt to know her, between new melodies, experimental compositions and, above all, new people to whom she could give a voice.

With time she has learnt to understand the sounds that came from the Zaunites and could write them down. And so she can enter more in contact with them during her exhibitions. Other curious venues contact her, it seems she is starting to gain support even in Zaun, but she is not able to get an excellent harmonization down there. The grim melody that has always followed her still resonate addressed to those who live under the sun, at the expense of the people surrounded by the darkness of that canyon. They find her interesting until she performs, until she belongs to their entertainment, but they would have never let her touch the strings of their souls so easily.

But Piltover has taught her to stand up and follow her path. She would not give up; she would carry on fighting. Neither the prejudices of the high society with their complaints or the hard zaunite nature would have stopped her. She would continue spreading the melodies of the people of the two cities so that everyone would have a voice. She wanted everyone to express themselves and maybe, one day, interact in one of the biggest symphonic work that humankind has ever created.

Because, after all, anyone just wants to be heard.


End file.
